


Soldier's minute

by missing_fawkes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fighter Castiel (Supernatural), Fighter Dean Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Soldiers, War, soldier!Castiel, soldier!dean winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 12:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21299114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missing_fawkes/pseuds/missing_fawkes
Summary: Cas opens his eyes.He watches his own blood run over the calloused hands that are trembling now.Stay with me.He looks up and Dean is crying.Tears are streaming down his face and words are falling from his lips like rain.Please. Hold on. It's alright. Please.Please be alright.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74
Collections: Destiel Instagram One Shot Contest - November 2019





	Soldier's minute

The soldier's minute.  
No past. No future.  
This one minute is all you got on the battlefield.  
Everything that happens within this one minute and only this minute is yours.  
At war, every single minute is a soldier's minute.  
At war, every single minute could be your last.

Cas knows this.  
He knows it when he sees the man aiming his gun.  
He knows it when the noise of the battle dies down, leaving only silence and static.  
The ticking of a clock fills his ears.  
It's his minute running up.

Tick. Tock.

The man pulls the trigger.  
His gun is trained on Dean.

Cas moves out of instinct.  
It's not a choice he makes.  
It's not a choice being made for him.  
It's not a choice at all.  
He moves in front of Dean without doubt or hesitation.  
Dean's back is turned towards the man who's gun is aimed at him.  
His attention is directed towards something he's reaching for in the mud.

One second of inattentiveness can cost your life.  
Dean knows it as good as any other soldier, yet he sits on the ground reaching for something, looking like a lost little boy rather than the man he's forced to be.  
It takes Cas' leap forward to get him to look up.  
Cas looks at him. Their eyes lock.  
Green meets blue. Just for a second.  
Then the bullets hit Castiel.

Tick. Tock.  
The minute is up.

His knees hit the mud and he topples over, loosing consciousness before he even hits the ground.

He doesn't know how Dean gets him out of the line of fire.  
He doesn't know how they end up hidden in the trenches.  
He doesn't know anything.  
The world is a blurry whirl of brown and grey.  
His head is spinning and his breathing goes too fast.  
His heart is racing like its being chased by the devil himself and maybe it is. Maybe death is reaching for him and hell already made its claim.  
Maybe he'll die fighting one battle only to wake up for the next.  
Cas doesn't know if he believes in heaven and hell.  
He doesn't know anything.  
The world is a blurry whirl of brown and grey.

He hears Dean screaming for a medic, but the sound is distant and muffled like Cas is floating under water.  
He watches Dean fall to his knees by his side.  
He watches Dean go through the motions of keeping a wounded soldier alive.  
He watches Dean.

His face is stoic and emotionless.  
His actions clinical and professional.  
Dean behaves in a way Cas has seen him be a hundred times.  
The focus he let slip for just a second on the battlefield is back.  
Dean is back.  
Efficient and capable.  
The little boy is gone and Cas doubts he'll ever see him again.

Dean is trying to stop the blood flow. His hands are on Cas' back and chest and Cas knows it's happening, because he sees the events unfold from his half-seated position against the wall of the moat, but he doesn't feel.  
He doesn't hear.  
He is floating under water and he's watching Dean.  
He watches his own blood run over the calloused hands he loves so much.  
Loves how they are gentle even though they have carried a weapon every single day for the past year.  
Dean's lips are moving.  
Cas can't hear him, can't hear anything, but he knows what Dean's saying.  
He has said the words himself more often then he would've liked.

_It's alright. You're alright. Just hold on. Hold on. The medics will be here soon. It's alright._

His gaze moves up and he finds Dean's eyes already trained on himself.  
Green meets blue.

And Cas can see the mask fall.  
He sees pain cross Dean's face.  
He sees him biting his lip to keep it together.  
He sees him blink rapidly.  
And he sees the first tear.

And just like that he's back.  
He emerges from his sanctuary of water and the sounds crash over him like waves.  
There are screams and gunshots filling the air and the world around him smells like fire and smoke.  
And there is pain.  
Oh God, there is pain.  
There is pain tearing through him, sharp and hot and ice cold and too much and he has to close his eyes against it.  
Cas grits his teeth and wishes to be under water again.  
He pictures to be back.  
Below the surface, where there is nothing but undisturbed peace and quiet.  
Until he hears Dean's whisper.  
It's low and pleading and almost inaudible against the rage of war around them, but all of sudden every word is crystal clear to Cas.

_Please. Please. Please, don't leave me. Come on, Cas._  
_The world needs you. _  
_We need you. _  
_I need you._  
_Come on, Cas._

He doesn't sound like Dean.  
Dean is calm and collected and does his job without fault every time.  
Dean is stoic. He is harsh most of the time and sometimes he is cruel.  
Cas thinks he might just love him.

_Please. _

Because his hands are gentle, even though they have carried a weapon every single day for the past year.  
Because when he smiles the entire world lights up and all the violence surrounding them seems bearable.  
Because he does his best, always, even if it isn't enough.

_Just stay with me._

Cas opens his eyes.  
He watches his own blood run over the calloused hands that are trembling now.

_Stay with me._

He looks up and Dean is crying.  
Tears are streaming down his face and words are falling from his lips like rain.

_Please. Hold on. It's alright. Please._  
_Please be alright. _

Cas wants to reach out for him and wipe his tears away, but his hands feel too heavy and he can't remember how they work.

_Please._

Cas wants to say something. Anything.  
He wants to tell Dean that it's fine. That it's alright. That everything is going to be alright, but he doesn't know how.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"Hello Dean."  
Dean's eyes widen and the stream of words stops.  
Castiel is not sure if he likes the silence. Without the anchoring presence of Dean's voice, he feels himself drift away.

"Cas!," Dean is loud and panicked and his whole body is shaking, but he doesn't stop his attempts to staunch the blood.  
"Cas, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he repeats over and over again and now his voice is trembling too and he is still crying and it breaks Cas' heart to see him like that.

"It's alright, Dean. It's alright. The medics will be here soon. I'm going to be alright."

Cas is saying Dean's words back to him, but they both know that the truth in those words is fragile like glass.

Dean cries harder and Cas wonders what it is about him being wounded that brings this strong unbreakable man to fall apart like this.

"I am so sorry," Dean says again.  
"I let my guard down. I didn't think. I just ... I just ..."  
He cannot finish the sentence.  
His voice is trembling, his hands are trembling, his whole body is.

"It's alright,"Cas says and wonders how many times he will say these words and how often he has said them already over the last year.  
"It's alright, Dean. You're human. You make mistakes. We all do."  
It takes all the strength he has to grit out the words and Castiel wonders how long he will last.  
Will he die in this world of screams and fire and smoke?

"It was supposed to be me. It was supposed to be me. Why didn't you let it be me?," Dean is frantic and desperate and he doesn't understand. Cas can tell he doesn't and it breaks his heart all over again.  
"I would've deserved it. I was picking up some stupid stupid necklace, because I wanted to keep a stupid promise and because I couldn't be smart just once. It should have been me. Why wouldn't you let it be me?"

He is close to Castiel. Cas can feel Dean's tears on his face and he cries and cries and Cas thinks it might be the little boy on the battlefield who is speaking now, but he isn't sure.

"Dean," he says, but Dean rests his forehead against Cas' temple and doesn't look at him.  
His tears are running down Cas' cheek and they taste like salt water and make Cas think of the ocean he was floating in, just moments ago.  
Minutes ago.

Tick. Tock.  
No past. No future.  
Tick. Tock.

"Dean," he says again, more sternly this time and the other man finally meets his gaze.  
"I'm glad you kept your promise."  
Dean shakes his head, but Cas goes on, before he can object.  
"I'm glad you have someone to come home to."  
Cas puts his one of his hands over Dean's who are still covering his wounds in a desperate attempt to still the blood.  
"Dean, I ...," _I love you._  
That's what he's trying to say.  
But maybe Dean doesn't want to know.

  
"No deathbed speeches. You're staying. You will live. And you will come home," Dean has stopped crying. His voice is clear and authoritative and he won't take no for an answer.  
_And you will come home. _  
_With me._  
And Cas realizes he doesn't have to tell Dean, because Dean knows.  
He feels the press of lips to his forehead and a feeling of absolute security washes over him.

Here he is, wounded and bleeding, yet safer than he'll ever be in the arms of a man who won't stop fighting.

And for just a minute Cas allows himself to bask in the feeling of loving and being loved in return.

Tick. Tock.


End file.
